


Suit and Tie

by kopycat_101



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future, Banter, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Canon Jewish Character, Childhood Sweethearts, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Boyfriends, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Dress Up, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Gay Male Character, Gay Marc Anciel, Groping, Happy Ending, I Love You, Implied Sexual Content, Innuendo, Jewish Character, Living Together, Love Bites, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Men Crying, Mild Sexual Content, Nothing much Actually Happens but I'm tagging the hell out of things anyways, POV Jewish Character, Part 1 is Spicy and Part 2 is Sweet, Plans For The Future, Post-High School, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Tension, Slash, Suit Kink, Suits, Teasing, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, The characters are 19/20, There's a thousand fics about future adrinette and nothing about these boys so uhhhhh, Tie Kink, Wedding Rings, here's my attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:28:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24970801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kopycat_101/pseuds/kopycat_101
Summary: Nathaniel wears a proper suit and tie for once. His boyfriend Marc is very much a fan.So much so, Marc surprises Nathaniel with what he does. Namely by liking what he saw so much, he decided to actually put a ring on it.
Relationships: Marc Anciel & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marc Anciel/Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Nathaniel Kurtzberg
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62
Collections: MarcNath Fics!





	1. partition (take all of me)

**Author's Note:**

> Listen I have. Absolutely no explanations for this. 
> 
> I was just thinking about the boys being older, dating and living together and being successful. Then my mind whispered, "okay, but what if". And now I'm here.
> 
> I feel both embarassed and paranoid, but just take this. Let me wallow in the fact that I'm incapable of writing anything even remotely saucy, and yet An Attempt was made anyways.

* * *

Nathaniel wasn’t the type to dress formally.

Sure, he wore a sports jacket over a t-shirt from middle school through high school. Sure, he had to dress properly for important events, like his sister’s Bat Mitzvah, and his own Bar Mitzvah. Sure, he’d dressed up for school dances, especially when he finally took his now-boyfriend to them as his date.

There’s something about formal events and formalwear that made his skin crawl, though.

Nathaniel was a naturally anxious guy. He didn’t tend to like the spotlight. And formal clothing just made him feel like he was trying too hard, made all his flaws stand out, on top of being restrictive and uncomfortable.

He’s not sure what his boyfriend’s feelings on formalwear is either. But considering Marc is also a shy and anxious person, who rarely dresses in button downs and slacks, much less full suit-and-ties…Maybe he had similar thoughts on the matter.

Nathaniel sighs gustily, fiddling with his stupid tie for the fifth time. He’d had to literally Google how to tie one properly on his phone, since he completely forgot the steps his father showed him when he was younger. Even still, he feels like the tie is…crooked, almost. Maybe it’s his perfectionist tendencies rearing its ugly head, making him nitpicky, though.

He smooths down the collar of his white button-up, slightly shifting his vest to rest centered against his torso. The vest is a perfect shade of red that matches his hair, the tie an electric blue to bring out his eyes. Blue stitched patterns on the vest, as well as lining the suit jacket’s pockets and cuffs, tie the whole ensemble together.

A classy black suit, with a colorful and artistic spin on it. It matches both his looks and his own talents perfectly.

He’s eternally grateful that he’s good friends with stylish people, much less a fashion designer like Marinette. He’d only called her for suggestions over how to go about buying a suit, and she’d decided then and there that she was going to make him a proper ensemble, and _could he please stop by for at least two sessions to get his measurements and fit his garments properly_?

Nathaniel has insanely amazing friends, he’s reminded time and time again. He’s a ridiculously lucky guy.

All he’d really needed this suit for was an upcoming meeting. A meeting with a publishing firm. True, it was for Marvel comics, literally one of the largest comic book conglomerates on the planet, and he was ridiculously nervous about that. But maybe wearing a full, custom-made three-piece suit from a well-known designer was going a bit too far…?

It’s too late to go back now, though. The suit was a gift. He’s already wearing it.

This all wouldn’t be such an issue if he’d ever been the type to actually have a suit lying around. Marc certainly did—hard not to when you’ve got a mom who’s a renowned movie director, and another mom who’s a semi-famous author, he supposes. But his boyfriend had a different build than Nathaniel, so none of his spare suits would have fit him anyways.

The custom suit feels extravagant and gorgeous on Nathaniel’s skin. It looks perfect in the mirror, as well. He also feels horribly out of place in it. But that’s probably the anxiety and self-consciousness talking.

He lets out a long breath, before straightening, closing the suit jacket so that everything looks complete.

He’s too anxious to do anything else right now. After all, this is just a test run, before the big day tomorrow. Just to see if everything actually fits properly… No matter the fact that he’d already worn the perfectly fitted suit earlier in the week when Marinette bustled him into a changing room to try it on.

Maybe he can ask Marc to help him figure out his hair or makeup for tomorrow. His boyfriend was very talented at doing makeup. If Nathaniel tried doing it himself, he’d probably accidentally get mascara on his brand-new suit, or something. That’d be an utter disaster.

Nathaniel sighs, threading a hand through his hair. He just needs to step out of the room and go to Marc. His boyfriend, while also having anxiety, always knew a how to calm him down.

* * *

Nathaniel carefully exits his and Marc’s bedroom. His dress shoes clack against the apartment’s wooden paneling, oddly loud to his ears.

He finds Marc lounging in the living room, draped across their couch with one of his notebooks, pen tapping across his bottom lip.

Even on their day off, his boyfriend still looks incredibly pretty and put-together. His feathery, black hair is pinned back with clips, eyes lined with mascara. He’s wearing yoga pants and a tank top, the pants clinging to his long and shapely legs, slung low on his hips.

It’s an impressive sort of careless beauty that always takes Nathaniel’s breath away. His boyfriend was the most gorgeous person in existence, he _swears_.

“Hey, Nath,” Marc starts idly, not looking up from intently surveying his notebook. “I’ve been triple-checking my numbers, after looking through Mama’s own book deals, for our possible contract.”

“We haven’t even had our meeting yet, and you’re already hashing out numbers?” Nathaniel asks, fondly amused as he steps up to the couch. “How very practical of you.”

“Of course,” Marc grins up at him, flicking his eyes down, before doing a double take. His green eyes are wide as he stares up at Nathaniel, who hovers awkwardly by the couch.

The other is quiet as he stares intently at the redhead, slowly putting down his notebook and shifting to a sitting position.

“Is this the result of having lunch with Marinette a few days ago…?” Marc asks, slow and careful, as he gracefully stands up. His eyes rake across Nathaniel’s form, from head to toe, and Nathaniel straightens his spine under the surveying gaze.

“Yeah, actually. I called to ask for advice on picking suits, and well…This was the result,” the redhead shrugs, extending his arms slightly in a ‘here I am’ sort of gesture. “You know how Marinette is.”

“Of course,” Marc hums, obviously appreciative. He slowly walks around Nathaniel, hand out and trailing lightly across his arms and shoulders as he makes a circuit around the redhead.

Nathaniel gulps very loudly, keeping stock-still, feeling like a prey under the eyes of a predator. One wrong move, and he could be gobbled up.

Though being gobbled up by Marc wasn’t such a bad thing…

His face feels warm as Marc stops in front of him and trails a palm down Nathaniel’s front.

“It’s all very nice material,” Marc says lightly, conversationally, as he carefully tugs at various parts of the three-piece suit. Nathaniel’s breath hitches as Marc’s hands come up to smooth down his shirt collar, fingering at his tie. He nearly chokes when Marc grabs onto his tie and uses it to tug him along.

It’s less that the tie strangles him, and more the fact that the he hadn’t considered Marc using his tie in such a bold way, for why he all but chokes on his spit.

“Even a silk tie, I see. Marinette’s really outdone herself,” Marc hums, a crooked smile slipping onto his plump lips, as he guides them across the living room. His grin widens into a smirk, teeth flashing, as he grabs onto one of Nathaniel’s shoulders to spin them around.

Nathaniel’s back hits the living room wall; not hard enough to hurt, but firm, with careful consideration on the strength of it.

He shouldn’t be so surprised and downright _excited_ by the turn of events, but he is, on both accounts.

“The suit _really_ does look amazing on you, you know,” Marc states, sweet and honest, even as his hands sensually smooth over Nathaniel’s chest, mapping the planes of his body over the layers of cloth.

“Good to know,” is Nathaniel’s breathless reply.

“And not to be cliché about it, but…I think the suit would look even better on our bedroom’s floor.” Marcs hands leave his body, instead finding themselves planted firmly on either side of the redhead’s form. The smile Marc sends him is as sweet as the devil as he asks cheekily, “Don’t you think?”

All Nathaniel is capable of doing in response is wheeze and cling against the wall to keep from collapsing, his legs suddenly feeling like jello.

“Nathaniel…” Marc starts, voice low and serious, incredibly intent. His pupils are blown wide, just a small ring of emerald green surrounding them, as he stares the redhead down. “I’ll be frank. It’s taking literally all of my willpower not to pin you down on the nearest surface and have my way with you, right now.”

“ _Oh_ ,” is all Nathaniel manages to say, high and choked, past the lump in his throat.

His eyes dart down towards their chests, all but pressed flush together, then up at the hands planted on either side of his head, Marc very effectively boxing him in against the wall.

Never before has their three-inch height difference hit Nathaniel as hard as it does now, Marc slightly looming over him and eyeing Nathaniel like he was ready to discard every article of clothing before ravaging him.

Feeling a little nervous and a lot restless, and most certainly horny, he raises a hand to fiddle with his tie. With lightning-quick reflexes, Marc takes his hand and pins it against the wall, right by his head. Nathaniel fights down a whimper as more heat pools down low in his stomach.

His boyfriend leans in, thigh snugly slotting between his legs, hot breath ghosting across his cheek as he whispers the order masked as a suggestion, “Keep the tie on. It looks good on you, darling.”

“Alright,” the redhead manages to say, hoarse and breathless, unable to fight down the shiver that works down his spine. He whines, high and broken, as Marc rubs his thigh firmly against Nathaniel’s throbbing length, which is hardening quickly in his restrictive suit pants.

“Let me show you the rest of my appreciation, hm…?” Marc purrs, completely detaching from Nathaniel’s front, causing the redhead to let out a keen before he takes Nathaniel’s tie again and uses it to yank him towards their bedroom.

Nathaniel stumbles along, dazed and riled up. He has just enough thought process left in his horny, monkey brain to weakly remind his boyfriend, “I-If we ruin my suit, M-Marinette w-will kill us.”

“Oh, I’m not ruining the suit anytime soon, darling. If I do, you won’t be able to wear it again,” Marc chuckles, voice honey-sweet as he gropes at Nathaniel’s ass with one hand. “Which would be _such_ a shame…”

* * *

The suit doesn’t get ruined, miracles of all miracles.

This is mostly because Marc is very meticulous in stripping it off Nathaniel’s body to be set aside for safekeeping, even if the redhead is reduced to a gibbering mess, begging Marc to stop teasing him.

But Marc is firm in his promise. He takes his time, slowly ridding Nathaniel of his suit piece by piece, lavishing the uncovered skin with his tongue. Nathaniel nearly sobs in relief when Marc finally takes his suit pants off, his length no longer trapped by the restrictive garment.

The tie does, in fact, stay on through it all.

Small mercy, really, considering it took him so long to actually tie the damn thing. Though Nathaniel’s sure he’d never wear it again, considering how drenched in sweat it gets in the proceeding hour…among other things.

* * *


	2. put a ring on it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 was its own thing, but things sort of veer of-course for part 2. You'll see what I mean.
> 
> It's mainly because I'm incapable of 1) actually writing smut and 2) I'm a sucker for fluff.

* * *

“Nathaniel, you really did look amazing in your suit…!” Marinette squeals on the facetime call, blue eyes glittering. “It fits you perfectly!”

“Thanks, Marinette,” Nathaniel says weakly, giving an awkward smile back at her. He dutifully ignores the fact that he’d barely had enough time to throw on a high-collared shirt just before he picked up. And even then, he’s paranoid that the cloth isn’t covering all the love-bites left on his neck, fresh ones and ones lingering from days ago; but it’s too late to try and cover them with foundation now.

“I’m just wondering, though, where your tie was…? Since you weren’t wearing it in those pictures Marc sent on interview day,” the woman pouts, pushing back a wayward strand of dark hair behind her ear.

Marc, like the complete bastard he is, chuckles lowly over Nathaniel’s right shoulder. The redhead fights down a shiver as his boyfriend slides in behind him, all but draping himself over Nathaniel’s back.

“Uh…” Nathaniel stutters out, face going pink, feeling himself start to sweat nervously.

“Poor Nath was struggling with tying his tie. So in the end, he didn’t bother with it,” Marc lies smoothly, no doubt giving an innocent smile to go with it. Nathaniel was pointedly refusing to give his boyfriend the satisfaction of checking.

“Oh, Nathaniel… There’s nothing wrong with not knowing how to tie a tie! Plenty of guys don’t know how,” Marinette frets, brow furrowed, hands aflutter. “If you didn’t know how, you should’ve told me!”

“I-It’s fine, Marinette, really,” the redhead tries to assure his fashion designer friend before she could fly off into a tizzy.

“No, no, that was an oversight! Here, let me send you some instructions—”

“Y-You really don’t need t-to do that,” Nathaniel chokes out, fighting down a squeak as Marc very pointedly starts to knead his upper thigh, out of frame.

“Don’t worry, Mari dear. I can always teach Nath,” Marc says lightly, hooking his chin over Nathaniel’s shoulder and smiling beatifically at the woman on the other side of the screen. “He’s a quick learner, after all, so I’m sure it won’t take any time at all.”

Butter wouldn’t even melt in Marc’s mouth, Nathaniel is sure. His boyfriend was such a genuinely sweet soul, no one would ever suspect he could be a total vixen sometimes.

The joys of having Marc as a boyfriend, he supposes, is being able to see this side of him in action.

“Well, if you’re sure…” Marinette sighs, effectively distracted from her mini freak-out. “But if either of you need anything from me, just remember that all you have to do is ask, okay?”

“Will do, Mari!” Marc chirps innocently. “We’ll be sure to go to you when we need tuxes for the wedding.”

Nathaniel chokes on his spit and nearly drops his phone.

“Wedding?” Marinette demands excitedly, squealing. “Marc, Nath, are you—”

“See you later, Mari,” Marc singsongs, reaching over to end the call, effectively wrestling the phone from Nathaniel’s grip. Too shocked to do anything else on the contrary, Nathaniel lets him.

* * *

It takes Nathaniel a minute—a _very_ long minute—but he finally finds his voice again.

“W- _Wedding_ …?” he half-asks, half-demands, turning in place to goggle at his boyfriend. A very sheepish, pink-faced boyfriend, who laughs nervously at him.

“Well…You see…” Marc starts, gaze skittering all across the room, suddenly shy.

“Marc,” Nathaniel starts, slowly and tentatively, his chest full to bursting with butterflies. “Marc, _please_ …”

He’s not exactly sure what he’s asking for. Maybe that he wants it to be a joke. Maybe that he wants it to be real. He’s not sure. All he’s sure is that he wants an explanation.

“It’s just…Seeing you in one of Marinette’s custom suits…It just sort of felt like looking in the future, a bit?” Marc says, biting his lip and hunching in on himself as he carefully keeps Nathaniel’s gaze. “Like, I realized, ‘ _Wow. What if this is how Nath looks on our big day?_ ’. Y’know?”

“ _Oh_ ,” Nathaniel manages to squeak, dazed.

“It just made me excited, I guess. And then I also very quickly realized I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you regardless,” is his boyfriend’s somewhat sheepish reply. “Not when you look like _that_ in a suit.”

“Y-you say that like you _also_ don’t look amazing in a suit…” the redhead mutters in a huff, face warm. After all, on the interview day, he very much showed his appreciation of how delectable his boyfriend wore a suit right afterwards…

Marc simply gives a hum, reaching over to trace light, idle patterns on Nathaniel’s back. “So I guess you could say…It was sort of like… a test run of our wedding night.”

Nathaniel feels his heart melt, just a bit. “If that’s how much energy you’d have left on our wedding night, I’m impressed,” he half-jokes, feeling his pulse quicken, and his skin alight with a buzzing sort of energy.

Marc takes his chin gently, tilting it up so Nathaniel would meet his eyes. Striking green eyes stare him down, so full of admiration, it takes his breath away.

“I’d _always_ have energy to make love to you,” Marc tells him seriously. “Because I _love_ you, Nath. With all my heart and soul. You’re my inspiration in everything in life.”

Nathaniel’s breath catches in his throat. He swallows thickly, fighting down the sudden burn of tears.

“And I love you too,” he replies, voice wavering slightly from the sheer emotion of it. “I _love_ you, Marc. So, _so_ much. I wake up every morning knowing I can face anything, with you by my side.”

Marc’s eyes glimmer, also very obviously shiny with tears. He scrambles off the bed, and Nathaniel blinks, a bit confused as his boyfriend all but dives towards the drawers on the other side of their bedroom.

The confusion is quickly blown away by shock and joy, as Marc comes back with a little velvet box clutched knuckle-white in his hand.

When Marc drops to one knee, all but prostrating himself by their bed, Nathaniel instantly bursts into tears, too euphoric to feel ashamed.

“Nath,” Marc starts, voice wavering and thick with tears. “Love of my life, my everyday inspiration. Will you—”

“Yes! You d-don’t even have to ask!” Nathaniel blubbers, tackling his boyfriend—now _fiancé!_ —to the ground. The two collapse in a heap, laughing and crying and clutching at each other.

Nathaniel can very safely say that this was the happiest moment of his life. He was so overwhelmed by sheer joy, he felt like he could fly. He could probably fistfight God right now, and win.

“Y-You didn’t—it’s s-so pretty—o-oh _Marc_ —” he gasps out, pulling back just far enough that he could stop crying on Marc’s shirt and start crying on the ring box instead.

The ring itself was a simple silver band, with a small sapphire embedded in the middle, elegant and classy. Nathaniel’s not sure what he expected to be presented with. Maybe a super ornately carved ring with something obsidian, to match Marc’s more punk aesthetics?

Either way, it’s perfect. Marc has good taste.

“Y-You didn’t need t-to get me a r-ring…!” he manages to say, wiping furiously at his eyes.

“B-but I—I wanted to—”

“I bought rings t-too!” Nathaniel admits, punching his boyfriend in the shoulder. “Th-they’re custom m-made and e-e- _everything_!”

“D-Did you r-really—”

“Yes…!” Nathaniel howls, still stuttering through a few sobs. “L-Lemme just—”

He gets up, nearly stumbling and falling back on Marc. Clutching onto the bed and with shaky legs. Nathaniel makes his way around the bed to his side of it, before dropping down clumsily on his knees to find what he’s looking for.

After fishing out the rectangular jewelry box hidden inside one of his shoe boxes, he hauls himself up and sits on the bed. Marc crawls over to him, curious and still sniffling. Nathaniel shuffles around to face his lover, carefully opening the box in his hands.

Marc gasps, taking in the matching golden rings with the star of David embedded in the middle with awe, tears streaming down his face with renewed vigor.

“I-It’s, um, a tradition for Jewish e-engagement rings t-to have something related to the star of David, or Israel…” Nathaniel explains cautiously, just a bit nervous. “S-So—"

“T-They’re b-b-beautiful…!” Marc wails, cutting through Nathaniel’s nervous rambling, a hand up to clutch at his mouth. After the redhead carefully sets the box aside on the nightstand, Marc renews his sobs with vigor and throws his arms around Nathaniel, holding him tight. “I love them…! Th-they’re amazing!”

The relief crashes against Nathaniel like a vast ocean wave at Marc’s assurances.

He’d worried that the rings would be ‘too Jewish’ for Marc, somehow. A strange thing to fret about, considering Marc’s family wasn’t even religious and Marc himself has always shown interest in Nathaniel’s religious practices, even participating in some of them.

It’s just nice to be reminded that his culture is appreciated by the person he loves the most.

“I-I love your ring too…!” Nathaniel wails back, clutching at his now-fiancé, tears redoubling from relief and euphoria. “It’s—it’s really p-pretty!”

“B-But yours are m-m-more thoughtful!” Marc retorts through his sobs. “They’re so—so gorgeous! So _you_!”

“B-But _you_ p-p-proposed first!” Nathaniel blubbers, burrowing into Marc’s chest. “A-And you did the whole—the w-whole thing with the knee and the box—like s-some sort of Prince Ch-charming—”

“ _You’re_ P-Prince Charming!”

“N-no, _you’re_ Prince Charming!”

The two hug each other tightly, not liable to let go any time soon, as they both aggressively shower one another in affection through their gross tears.

* * *

It admittedly takes the two of them some time to calm down, after that entire debacle.

“I’m glad we proposed at home,” Nathaniel rasps out sheepishly, blowing his nose on a tissue from the box Marc hands him. He feels gross and snotty and tired. “I-If we did all _that_ in p-public…”

“Y-Yeah,” Marc chuckles, waterlogged. “E-everyone wouldn’t know how to d-deal with us being total messes…”

“Mmmm,” Nathaniel hums, grabbing a second tissue to dry his eyes. “W-We’re both such disasters, huh?”

“We are,” Marc sighs, but it’s fond. “I-I wouldn’t change it for the world, though… You?”

“Me neither,” the redhead admits, suddenly shy. He sniffles once more, chucking the used tissues in the trash bin. “It’s really something, how we’ve gone from vaguely horny to sobbing messes in less than five minutes, though.”

“A new record,” his now-fiancé nods with great solemnity, causing Nathaniel to snort. The other shuffles on the bed, taking Nathaniel’s hands in his gently and warmly, his voice just as gentle and warm as he says, “I don’t regret it, though.”

Nathaniel shares a smile with Marc, feeling so terribly fond and in love, he’s sure his eyes are in the shape of hearts. Marc’s own eyes are crinkled, looking so sickeningly lovestruck and such a brilliantly bright green, they’re breathtaking.

And then the two are meeting in a long, sweet kiss. It’s not heated, though it is passionate, the two wanting to show the other their love. Their lips slot together, gliding across each other like they belong, like they’re two halves of a whole.

Nathaniel pulls back first, slow and careful. Marc chases after his lips with a little whine, and Nathaniel giggles breathily at how adorable the other is, even as their mouths fumblingly meet. “I love you, Marc,” he states, dipping in for a kiss, quick and fleeting.

A small smile unfurls on his lips as Marc pouts back at him, grabbing his face with both hands. “Stop teasing me, Nath. Gimme a proper kiss.”

Nathaniel snickers, swatting at him lightly. “Don’t be impatient. I’m getting to it.” He dips in smack an exaggerated kiss on each of Marc’s cheeks. “Mwah!”

“Foxy little vixen,” the other tuts, pink lips still jutting out into a pout. Nathaniel makes sure to kiss that pout away.

This time, when he pulls away, Marc lets him. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” Marc agrees warmly, smiling and kissing Nathaniel on the cheek, nose, forehead—showering his entire face with kisses. “Love you, so, so, so, so much,” he states, punctuating each word with a kiss.

Nathaniel giggles, feeling oddly like a shy schoolgirl. It’s strange, how these simple shows of affection make him feel like he’s just started dating Marc all over again, instead of the two being steady for years now. Being steady and ready to _marry_ each other, even.

“Charmer,” the redhead teases, voice warm and gooey as he pokes at Marc’s stomach. The other giggles, and Nathaniel takes the opening to cover Marc’s face in kisses as well. “My— own— Prince— Charming!”

“Naaaath,” Marc whines, laughing loudly and making a fuss of moving his face from side to side. But Nathaniel just threads his hands through his fiancé’s hair to keep him in place, unrelenting in his sweet assault.

“Love you,” Nath coos, leaving a trail of featherlight kisses down Marc’s sharp jawline. “My model, my muse, my prince.” More kisses, but now slowly migrating down Marc’s neck. He feels the other swallow thickly, licking a teasing stripe down his Adam’s apple.

“And you’re always complaining about how _I’m_ horny,” Marc huffs out, voice breathy. “You hypocrite.”

Nathaniel takes that time of weakness to fully straddle the other’s lap, pinning his lover down on the bed. He stares down at Marc through his lashes, a grin curling on his lips, sharp and pointed.

“If you didn’t want me to be riled up, you should’ve thought of that before proposing,” he teases, dipping down to playfully nip at Marc’s ear. “Which was just about the best moment in my life.”

“I suppose it can’t be helped…” Marc sighs, humming and going boneless as the redhead takes the time to lick the shell of the other’s ear and slowly work his way down all Marc’s favorite spots. “I-If this was going to be your reaction, I m-might’ve proposed even sooner.”

“We’re barely hitting twenty right now. What, did you have things planned since high school?” Nathaniel asks, wholly joking, as he pulls back to hover over Marc and grin wolfishly down at him.

Only to see the other’s face turn fully red, green eyes darting away shyly, a wholly embarrassed look on his face.

Nathaniel stops, and stares. His mouth drops open in his shock, completely and utterly gob smacked. “S- _Seriously_ …?!”

“Listen,” Marc chokes out in a squeak, still firmly avoiding eye contact. “I-I know it’s dumb and—well, there w-was never a guarantee we’d s-stay together, but—”

“Marc, please look at me,” he starts, voice quiet and even. He waits for when Marc finally meets his gaze, looking contrite, before speaking again. “I’ve wanted to marry you since then, too. But I thought they were just wild fantasies. That I was daydreaming, and none of it would come true.”

Nathaniel’s face feels like it’s on fire, confessing such a secret, feeling highly vulnerable as he does. Marc stares back at him in awe, mouth agape, emerald eyes glittering.

“S-so you…You don’t think…it’s w-weird?” the other asks, tentative, shifting nervously under Nathaniel’s hold.

“I don’t,” he confirms. He shifts to put his weight on one arm, and gently cups Marc’s face with the opposite hand, thumb rubbing soothingly against a sharp cheekbone.

Marc leans his face against Nathaniel’s hand, eyes at half-mast, face a deep pink. He looks through his lashes up at Nathaniel, lips shiny and pulled back into a small, relieved smile. He looks gorgeous.

Nathaniel dips down to kiss him. It’s soft and sweet, until Marc deepens the kiss. Then one kiss leads to two, then two to three, and then soon enough the two of them are grabbing onto one another like they’re afraid to let go.

“I love you,” the two breath in-between kisses, a reminder, a promise. Then Nathaniel’s stamping his love down Marc’s neck, and Marc re-iterates the words as he helps Nathaniel out of his clothes, and Nathaniel’s repeating the statement like a prayer as he strips his lover and pushes him into the sheets.

The two make love, completely enraptured, forgetting the rest of the world because the world doesn’t matter. Not when they’re together, hearts beating as one and sharing the same breath, so intertwined there was no beginning or end.

The ring boxes sit on their nightstand, ready and waiting.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, with tears in my eyes: I just want the boys to be happy together and grow up and love one another and be married, is that so much to ask--
> 
> So, yes, I wrote proposals and fluff because the physical side of things aren't the only aspect of relationships. Even if it's the more 'interesting' side for some people. Like sometimes, you can have both, y'know?
> 
> Did you enjoy this second part? Comments and kudos are appreciated!


End file.
